Tank Academy
by Mazzyandmilk
Summary: Tank Academy is a wonderful academy for tanks of all kinds. Except artillery. Birch Gun is a SPG at a regular tank school. Except it's an academy, and Birch Gun is a SPG. What?
1. Ready Up

Tank Academy

Birch Gun woke up. His gun shield was warm and bright from the sun beating down on it. He crawled out of his tank bed and let his gun shield twirl around to the window. He stared out of it. It was a beautiful day. His gun poked the window and as he did this, a little tracked thing popped out onto the road. It was small and blue, with a long gun striking out of it. His SPG gun depression stopped him from letting his gun fall down to where the tank would be if it was right by him. The vehicle passed.

He turned his hull and 'turret' around and he saw a Crusader SP pop out of nowhere at his open door. He pointed his gun towards the artillery, greeting it.

"Hi Mum!" Birch Gun was excited to see his mother on this bright and wonderful day.

"Son… Do you know what today is?" replied the Crusader SP, with her gun pointed towards the ceiling.

"No… Wait, is it the weekend? 5x experience event?" Birch Gun replied in excitement. "Half price on tier five artillery? Some extra pudding and tea?" Birch Gun was swinging his turret around in excitement. Slowly.

"No… it's your first school day. Don't you remember?

"What?" Birch Gun was aghast.

"Don't you remember? I told you a few months ago. Your winrate was going down and so we decided to send you to an academy."

"Oh… yeah…" Birch Gun pointed his gun low down as far as his gun depression let him. His gun went pretty far. Because Birch Gun was depressed.

"…Which academy?"

"Oh, the Self Propelled Gun Academy down in Ruskie. You know, where all of the KV-1S gangsters come from." Crusader SP replied.

"Isn't that place really rough?" Birch Gun was scared.

Crusader SP turned her gun left and right. "No no dear. Don't worry, that's only a small part of Ruskie. It's a big place, you know. The rough part is where 'Derp Guns R Us' is. All of the KV-1Ss want a 122mm."

"Oh." Birch Gun's gun rose a bit to face his mum. "Okay."

"You're going to have to do a test to get in the academy. Show them that your recent WN8 is real. It's just high enough to get in there."

* * *

Birch Gun had all of his supplies ready for the SPG test. He left the house with his bag full of ammo and his iPad with his stat checking tool on it. He wanted to compare his winrate to other tanks in the neighbourhood.

His turret swung around to look for the weird little blue thing that he saw earlier. He did not know that the little machine went to Tank Academy. He did not even know of Tank Academy. He drove on down the road, admiring the view of trees, the smell of gasoline, and the taste of smoke.

Birch Gun eventually ended up in Ruskie. He instantly spotted a KV-1S with his turret pointed down to another tank. He spotted the tank with his open topped view range. The tank was small and brown. He could just make out a little white star on it. The KV-1S rammed him and the tiny tank flipped over. He could tell what it was: a T1 Cunningham. Clearly he had wandered into the gangsters' territory and had paid for it.

Birch Gun stayed away from them, and he eventually found the Self Propelled Gun Academy. He stared it its posture; it was a gigantic, white building with many spires and towers. He wondered where the actual teaching took place. He drove up the stairs with a disappointing power-to-weight ratio of 9.05. Nobody criticized him, however. He was a SPG; an 'arty'.

He rammed the tall white doors open and was met with a reception room. A T57 artillery was working at the counter. Birch Gun slowly drove in and wiped his tracks on the doormat. The T57 greeted him heartily.

"Uh… Hi…" murmured Birch Gun. He wasn't exactly confident here.

"You are Birch Gun?" the T57 asked.

"Yes…"

"Great." The T57 drove over the counter and pointed its gun towards a map. Birch Gun saw its beautiful coat of green and brown camo drenched over it. Birch Gun stared at it in admiration when the T57 was explaining the directions. Birch Gun wanted his own camo.

"Did you get that?" the T57 asked.

"Uh… yeah…" replied Birch Gun in a slight trance. "I…um… Go up the corridor and then up the left corridor and down the right and then I climb the stairs and up the spire and then down the next spire along the path and then I slide down to the tank testing room."

T57 drove back in amazement. "How… how did you do that? How did you not pause for breath?"

Birch Gun laughed. "I'm an artillery. We don't breathe when we're firing."

"I've never been in a battle… I think I was free exped." replied T57, sad.

"You'll get your chance." Birch Gun felt amazing. This was totally out of character: him being helpful. But he was an artillery. All they do is scumbag and sometimes teamkill. And drown themselves.

Birch Gun left to go to the testing room, shutting the doors. He could hear T57 trying to do what he did, speaking almost a paragraph without stopping to let air through its gun.

Birch Gun was filled with glee. As he drove down to the testing room, he thought about the T57. Maybe they could be friends…

The happy thoughts were slaughtered when Birch Gun saw the door for testing. It was plated with steel and was full of holes and scratches.

Birch Gun gulped. This would be the fate to his life. He remembered he loved to go shotgun, killing every light tank. It didn't work for the team, however. It didn't work for his winrate either. Maybe the old and wise artillery would like his special style of shotgunning. Maybe they will.


	2. Rejected

Birch Gun turned his gun up to a sign. The sign was pelted with big holes. He managed to read 'Shoot at the target to enter.' Birch Gun aimed. He was certain that he would hit the shiny big red target. He didn't get the idea he had to shoot the target twenty metres away, as depicted by the little mark about twenty metres from him.

He let the big 18 pounder shell glide out of his shiny gun. Alas, poor Birch Gun was still stock. He was grinding the next gun, he was about five-hundred experience away from it, but his Mum decided to stop him from tank battling. The grind was tanking his winrate, his WN7, and his WN8. His poor old Crusader SP mum didn't want her little son to be a tomato.

The shell hit the door to the left side of the target, bouncing clean off the plated armour of the door. It didn't even splash, but it wouldn't matter anyway, for the Birch Gun's splash damage is terrible. The advanced door program did not even acknowledge the fact that Birch Gun attempted to put a shell on the target.

But it was no matter, because the door opened anyway. Birch Gun slowly drove up to the door. He looked up.

Birch Gun stopped in his tracks completely when he saw the gigantic behemoth lumbering in front of him.

"Come in." The beast was nodding at Birch Gun with his fifteen centimetre gun. Birch Gun lumbered in fear.

"Fear of me, yes?" The voice was deep, but soft spoken. Birch Gun looked up. "Do not worry, Jünger. You worry when the light tanks rush in the middle."

Birch Gun finally glanced at the steel that was before him. It was blue steel.

"Birch Gun you are, ja?" Birch Gun swung his gun up and down. "I am G.W Panther. Professor G.W. Pleased to meet you."

"O-okay..." Birch Gun nodded at 'Professor G.W'.

"We must get on, Birch." Professor G.W turned round and drove into the testing room.

Birch Gun steadily trailed after the Professor. He entered a spacious room with lots of grass. Birch Gun noted that the grass was devastated by gigantic black marks all around it.

He turned round to see a board of artillery staring at him. Professor G.W joined them, dropping his gun onto the table in front of them.

"Greetings, Birch Gun." began one of them. "I am FV3805." His huge refined seven inch howitzer gave Birch Gun the creeps. He winced.

FV3805 continued. "We are the SPG Professors, also known as the Board of Arty. You're here to get tested to see if you are worthy to join our prestigious school, yes?"

"Um, y-yeah…" Birch Gun hated this. He felt uneasy looking at the artillery with their mammoth guns. The grass felt bad on his tracks. He just wanted to go home and watch the days go by.

Next to the FV3805, there was a gigantic green thing. It had a star plastered on the side of it.

"Здравствуйте, друг." The green thing was speaking in a weird language.

Birch Gun drove back a bit. He was confused. _What was this thing? Is it artillery like me? What is it saying?_

His thoughts popped when the green thing began to speak again.

"Oops! I still think I am in Mother Russia sometimes. I am SU-14-2. D-do not be afraid, my 203 millimetre gun is not pointed at you."

Birch Gun drove back a bit more. His tiny little gun was no match for these tracked beasts.

The final artillery introduced himself. He was brown, with another little star on the side of his superstructure. Birch Gun only saw the beast just then and almost did a backflip when he saw the 240 millimetre howitzer stuck in his body.

Birch Gun got back to his senses and the final SPG began to speak. "Ahahaha. Birch Gun, you have a lot to go before you see me. Perhaps you may not even see me." He spoke like he was talking to a five year old. "T92. I doubt you have ever heard of me, youngling. Maybe you'll be as great as me someday… _as if_."

Birch Gun heard the last comment and pointed his gun at the T92. "You don't have the guts, child. Shoot me if you wish, but your tiddly gun won't even scratch me." T92 was boasting. Birch Gun really wanted to put a shot under his gun, but he wouldn't.

"Go on, whelp." T92 continued. "Shoot the target that pops up in front of you."

Suddenly, there was a loud creaking and Birch Gun could hear screeching from all around him. He discovered it was from above, and the target dropping down from the air gave him a fright. He jumped back. He turned his turret round to see the T92 sniggering. His loud and deep voice made it more audible than he thought.

"Come on, I don't have all day."

Birch Gun rolled over to the target, staring at it. He took aim…

* * *

"How was I supposed to know I wasn't allowed to shotgun the target?" Birch Gun moaned. He was lucky his minuscule splash didn't give him an injury.

He moaned and groaned, typing on the keyboard in front of him. The words "OMG" flashed up on the screen.

He ignored the notification and continued typing questions about his winrate. _How do I improve my winrate? How can I stop my winrate from falling? How do I become unicum?_

He had received ten "OMG" messages on his TankLive Instant Messager program. Giving up, he decided to flash the window up.

He stared at the profile that was sending him messages. T57. Is that the weird artillery that he talked to earlier?

Birch Gun typed on his computer. Sent.

"OMG HI!" he received back.

"Hi… Are you the tank that I met earlier?" he typed.

"OMG! YES! i saw ur profile and had 2 add you!"

"That's cool." Birch Gun was wondering where this was going.

"howd ur app go?" She was clearly high, or at least on caffeine. That's what Birch Gun thought, anyway.

"Bad. I shot it up close and that T92 guy kicked me out. The other artillery protested, but I guess the T92 is the boss."

"oh yeh, the t92 is a twit. don't listen 2 him."

"Yup…"

"that's a shame. we could've gone to skl togetha. aww."

"Anyway, I have to go. My mum's gonna be angry at me, so I'd better hide before she finds me." Birch Gun wanted to get off the computer quickly.

"ok. cya."

Birch Gun turned the computer off and jumped into his tank bed. Even though he made an excuse to get off that chat, he felt he had made a friend.

_A T57. Good start._ He went to sleep thinking about his bad day. Well, it wasn't entirely bad. He had somebody to talk to. That was a good start.

* * *

Birch Gun woke up, like any other day. He drove out of his bed, and drove downstairs.

He slid down to the kitchen, with his mum by his side. She greeted him. She knew all about the situation.

"Don't worry." she began, cheerful. "You'll always be my little Birch Gun."

Birch Gun ignored her and drove onto the tank chair. His bowl of nuts and bolts in oil was ready for him.

"We may have failed that endeavour Birch Gun, but I've signed you up for a new school."

"R-really? What one?" Birch Gun was intrigued. "Is it Mt. Platoon in Sacred Valley?"

"No, dear." she replied. "Tank Academy. It's just ten minutes away. There aren't any SPGs there, however. I hope you won't feel left out."

Birch Gun made no comment.

Mum began again, "I have your bag ready for you." She plonked down the backpack to fit in his crew compartment. "It has all of your school supplies, and your iPad. You… you said you wanted to check other tanks' stats, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mum."

"No problem. Anyway, you should be off. I'll drive you there."

"Okay."

* * *

They were just down the road where Tank Academy was.

"You see it?" Mum aimed her gun up at the roof of the academy."

"Yeah." Birch Gun replied. His tracks started to move, and he raced down the road.

He saw many tanks he had not seen before. He even saw a heavy tank… wow!

Birch Gun ended up at the gates. He stared at the gates. The bottle green paint was scratched off, splattered with rust. All the other tanks had left. He had no idea whatsoever where he had to go; he was just dropped in the school in the middle of term.

He drove in.


	3. Birch Gun Goes to School

_**Author's note: I don't normally do these, but I replaced this chapter because I felt it was very badly made. I burnt out and made it terrible.**_

Birch Gun entered. He saw all sorts of tanks. His turret turned round to see a gigantic blue tank. It was poking the small blue tracked thing he saw earlier! Birch Gun raced over to approach them.

The behemoth of a tank swung his gun onto the small thing, knocking it over forcefully.

"Ha ha ha!" Its voice was dark and deep. Somewhere in that voice however, Birch Gun could feel some sort of warmth. His theory went away when he heard the hulk shout at the defenceless tank thing. Birch Gun got in a huff, and bravely confronted the thing.

"**OI!"** Birch Gun fired an AP shot in the air. The shell drilled into the ceiling, hanging above the blue bully. A few tanks turned their turrets to look at Birch Gun. The tank turned its turret round to see Birch Gun. His gun pointed at the artillery.

"Well, hello." The colossus sneered at Birch Gun. "Oh, is this your friend, UE 57?"

"Help! ARL 44 is attacking me!" screeched UE 57. It was the small blue thing flipped on the ground.

Birch Gun felt less clever than he had thirty seconds ago. "L-let U-UE 57 go!"

ARL 44 poked Birch Gun with his long ninety millimetre gun. Birch Gun saw the finesse and the work provided to create that gun. ARL 44 slung his turret round Birch Gun's shield. ARL 44's long gun smacked it back, sending Birch Gun and his tracks rolling back.

"Don't act big when you can't take it." ARL 44 laughed. He turned back to the UE 57.

"Hel-" The squeaky voice of the UE 57 became muffled by ARL 44 slamming his gun into her gun shield.

Birch Gun was confused; why was nobody helping this UE 57? Did he have to do everything?

Birch Gun's tracks spun back behind the ARL 44. He raised his hull and smashed back onto the shiny floor. There was a rumble, and ARL 44 turned his turret back to Birch Gun.

"You again, whelp? What are you anyway, a tank destroyer?" ARL 44 snorted, and his laughs ricocheted throughout the room. He got ready to whack Birch Gun again when he yelped in pain. The AP round that got stuck in the ceiling fell out and zipped onto the top of ARL 44's turret, giving him a nasty sting.

Birch Gun dashed back as the blue heavy tank shook the AP round of off his turret. The shell bounced onto the ground. ARL 44 whirled around to Birch Gun, red with fury. He fired a shot in Birch Gun's direction at such a steep angle as to only bounce off the side of his gun shield.

ARL 44 roared with enmity as Birch Gun drove around him, throwing a shot into his side. The armour-piercing punched straight into ARL 44, making him groan with pain. He couldn't bring his turret round to Birch Gun, and so he stopped.

"Fine! You win, whelp, but next time **YOU ARE GOING DOWN!**" ARL 44 hastily rushed off to leave UE 57 and Birch Gun. The other tanks were still flowing in. Birch Gun rolled over to UE 57.

"Thanks!" UE 57's sharp and penetrating voice shook Birch Gun's hull.

"N-no problem…" Birch Gun was nervous. His previous experience with that ARL 44 probably meant the others were going to get him.

"What's your name?" UE 57 asked.

"Oh, I-I'm Birch Gun."

"That's cool. Oh, and if you didn't know this already, I'm a girl."

"Uh, o-okay…" Birch Gun could literally feel the awkwardness in the room. "W-well, I have to get to… wherever I have to be."

"Uh… why don't you check with Mr. Leopard? He'll know!"

"O-kaaay…" Birch Gun drove off. He was happy to get out of that situation.

"Wait!" she shouted. "Watch out for a KV-2 and a Hellcat; they are ARL 44's friends!"

* * *

Birch Gun admired the finesse of the amber floors. He looked down, and he could see himself on the floor. The reflections depicted him perfectly; he could even see the chipped bit where ARL 44 shot him. He didn't know how it bounced off; it was probably RNG.

He drove down the long and fat corridors. He watched the tanks go by. Some were big, some were small, and some were medium. Some had big guns, some were fast, and some were small. Birch Gun looked at himself: he was small and slow, and his gun was puny. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a sleek green tank with marks all over the tank. He froze for a few seconds, and then drove on.

Birch Gun raced down the halls, watching the windows outside. He loved looking at the velvet green grasses whistling in the winds. Sometimes he'd see a beautiful bird flutter in the sky. All of his happy thoughts ended when he bashed into something. He got knocked back and his wheels winded a metre back. He looked at the tank. It was blue, and it looked nasty.

"Hi…?" Birch Gun began. He had not seen this type of tank before. "S-sorry for ramming into you-"

"WHERE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE, YOUNG TANK?" the voice boomed and the sound waves knocked Birch Gun back. "WHY ARE YOU NEAR MY OFFICE AT THIS TIME?"

Birch Gun did not like getting shouted at. He whimpered softly "U-um," He sniffed. "W-what do you mean?"

The medium-sized tank exploded again. "DO NOT PLAY WITH ME! I'LL SEND YOU TO DETENTION!"

Birch Gun twirled around and prepared to dash. His wheels started to spin and he was off, the beautiful floor being mutilated by his speed.

The tank followed after him. Birch Gun was much slower than this tank, and it soon found him. "DON'T RUN AWAY FROM ME, SCOUNDREL! DETENTION, NOW!"

* * *

Birch Gun sat on the seat, his gun pointed straight up. He didn't know he would be spending most of his time learning about sitting. He looked at the tank in the front: it was a gigantic white hulk with a long gun poking out from it. It stared at the tank newspaper it had plopped on the table.

Birch Gun looked around; there were bored tanks. They looked like they were asleep; their engines didn't look they were running. He saw a big heavy tank. Its turret was tall, and the gun pointing out was chubby. It looked like Tankenstein, at least to Birch Gun.

He looked around in boredom: when is this going to end?

Eventually.

* * *

Birch Gun learnt that the tank who brutally sent him to this room was Leopard 1, the headmaster of Tank Academy. He was mean, strict and dark. He apparently would send anybody to detention for any reason – including strolling about in a random corridor.

Birch Gun knew all of this from UE 57; she had told him all about 'Mr. Leopard'. She had also told him about the school itself. "Just avoid the bullies, and you'll be fine." she said. Birch Gun had met one and seen one. The tall one he identified to be KV-2, a huge mutant tank who was actually an artillery. UE 57 warned him about the fat 152 millimetre gun that resided on his turret. Birch Gun made a note to keep out of his way.

Birch Gun trundled down outside with UE 57. He could feel the awkwardness as every tank seemed to keep out of his way.

"This is the playground! Or rather, the battlefield." UE 57 pointed to the shaggy grass on the field. "Come over here." She beckoned Birch Gun over to the field.

Birch Gun saw a bolt of blue whizz around the athletics track. "W-what is that?" He was dumbfounded.

UE 57 noticed the bolt. "Oh, that's Panzerkampfwagen I Ausf. C. She's one of the fastest tanks here. Maybe even the fastest."

Birch Gun froze for a second, processing the insanely long name. "Pa-panzaa-ah…" He stuttered. "k-campfff-wagon I a-ausf C?"

UE 57 paused. "Or just Panzer I C for short."

"Okay…"

"Hey Panzer I C! Over here!" UE 57's screeching voice made Birch Gun fall over. He couldn't tolerate the decibels being spitted out around UE 57.

Birch Gun got back up and shook his turret. The blue bolt suddenly appeared near UE 57.

UE 57 was the first to speak. "Hi Panzer!" She smiled.

Panzer I C spun on the spot. "Hey! S-sorry, I think I drank too much coffee. Who's your friend here?"

Birch Gun's engine started to shake. His hull was soon wobbling and so was his turret. UE 57 saw this, and decided to take action.

"This is Birch Gun!" UE 57 smiled, and nudged Birch Gun.

"H-hi…" Birch Gun murmured.

"Hi! My name is Panzerkampfwagen I Ausf. C! But you can call me Panzer I C." Panzer I C spun her turret around. "Well, I need to be going now. See ya!" Her wheels spiralled around, and her tracks began to shake. Panzer I C raced off back to the athletics track.

Birch Gun was frozen. He did not expect to be accepted as part of modern tanksociety.

Wow.


	4. Snarky Madness

Birch Gun spun his turret round to see the battlefield. UE 57 watched the tanks go by.

"Wow… there's a lot of different tanks here." Birch Gun was shocked. What were all these tanks? He recognised the artillery and some young tanks, but what was that lumbering brown and chubby heavy tank guzzling some fuel? Birch Gun was intrigued.

He saw the light tanks chase each other. "Hey… that's a T-60." The Russian steel was almost out of his render distance. He watched them more, but suddenly they vanished.

Darkness was cast over UE 57's face. Birch Gun noticed and looked in the direction that she was looking. Birch Gun saw a white tank with beautiful armour. Birch Gun had seen this kind of tank before; he shot it and did a few points of damage. The tank proceeded to shoot his gun shield off. That took a lot of DIY.

UE 57 turned towards Birch Gun. Her voice was low and she spoke quietly.

"Be careful of that tank... You'll find out why in a minute… It's Matilda… She's very… yeah."

Birch Gun wound his turret back to 'Matilda'. _What a weird name_, he thought.

He saw the Matilda strut towards Birch Gun and UE 57, or at least as much as a tank can strut, anyway. Matilda was very shiny. It looked like she was made out of chrome. Her turret had a little white metal flower on it, and it stood out from the rest of her. The flower shined like a light.

Birch Gun watched as Matilda finally drove in front of him and UE 57. She laughed.

"Oh UE 57! This is a new development for you, being with an artillery!" she sneered evilly. "It's a shame that he's bigger than you, though…"

UE 57 shook her gun disapprovingly. She couldn't shake it far through, because her gun arc was very narrow.

The snobby tank continued. "I'm sure you'd make a GREAT couple." She cackled like a witch and spun round, whizzing off.

"Um…" Birch Gun's engine froze up. He shook.

UE 57 sighed. It sounded like she had heard it before. "Don't worry, Birch Gun. The devil said that about M2 Medium and I…" She paused. "She also said that when I was talking to my friend Sturmgeschütz III…" She whimpered, thinking if she should say anything more. "St-u-h-rmmm-gueschotzz?" He fumbled with the words. UE 57 interrupted him. "Oh yeah, meanie Matilda also said Panzer I C and I would be good together… Pshaw! I'll get her back one day." Birch Gun almost spat out a shell, his turret whizzing around. He would've been lifted off the ground if he wasn't so incompetent at flying. UE 57 coughed. She tossed away the awkwardness by speaking. "Well, um, why don't we go check on some of my friends?" "O-okay." UE 57's tracks spun and she drove off. Birch Gun tried to stay behind. Birch Gun drove past Matilda. He rasped at her using some sort of gun technique. Matilda looked at Birch Gun, but he was already gone. She stomped on the ground, her spaced armour jiggling around. Birch Gun and UE 57 drove down to the playground. There was a swing hung by chains. The seat was dancing in the air. A brown tall tank with a star on its turret stood on the seat. The star particularly stood out: it was very shiny.

UE 57 drove forward. Birch Gun stayed behind, his engine muffled in silence. UE 57 approached the figure. It turned its turret to her, and he hopped in the air. He fell onto the track-cursed sands, his gun pointing down to her.

"UE 57!" the thing cried. The mutant had many machine guns, and they all pointed at her. Birch Gun watched from afar, uneasy.

He finally salvaged some courage and he slowly rolled over to the two. He could hear UE 57 and the tank talking. UE 57's voice was tremulous for some reason. He only got half a metre forward when the tall tank spotted him. Its open mind (and turret) came to one thing: the white tracked creature in front of the brown metal that resides on it is clearly an Oni summoned from the depths of Japan. The machine guns on the thing shifted their focus on Birch Gun.

UE 57 watched this, her gun quivering. She didn't know how to control the barbaric tank standing in front of her.

Suddenly, the tank opened fire. The bullets jumped out of the gun. Birch Gun spooked. He panicked and the lead missiles ate his gun shield. A shell slipped out of UE 57's gun. She rammed into the tank but she bounced straight off.

Birch Gun ate a bullet in his gun. It went straight through the other side. The tank stopped to reload.

The tank huffed and puffed several times while Birch Gun got ready. He let a shell glide out of his gun, blasting the explosive tube into the tank. Birch Gun's shield shook, and his tracks trembled. UE 57 watched in horror as her psychopathic 'friend' shot as well. His howitzer met Birch Gun's shell and they exploded in the air.

The tank spoke. "Do you not realise who I am, demon spawn? I have a gun just as you do!"

Birch Gun finally decided that this vehicle who stood before him was a bit loopy. "W-well, you're a tank, I know tha—"

"I AM M2 MEDIUM!" it boomed. "AND I WILL DESTROY YO—"

Birch Gun ended his campaign with an 75 millimetre shell. It seemed to work.

The tank exploded. It would take a lot of handiwork to fix that.

UE 57 whirled around to Birch Gun, her tracks gobbling the mud.

Birch Gun twisted his turret round to her. Silence was dominant apart from the playground ambience around them.

UE 57 looked at the wreck, and then to Birch Gun. "You destroyed my friend, but I guess you saved me… I guess…" She had mixed feelings. "He was a bit controlling, but his heart was pure…"

UE 57 knocked the tank corpse, and a thing fell from it. It rested onto the ground, making an unusual clang.

She picked it up, seeing an inscription. The metal was in the shape of a star.

"The Artillery Hunter…" she read it out. She looked at Birch Gun. He was shaking more than usual.

"W-what?"

"He must have had a lot of Pas—" She was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She turned round, seeing an extremely vibrant tank. Birch Gun was blinded.

"Hi?" it said.


	5. Conflict

The playground became quiet again. Where the destroyed tank was now a puddle of black. The tanks saw the tank being carried off on a stretcher.

UE 57's gun sunk. "It's the KV-1s…" She pointed at the stretcher. "They're the nurses…"

Birch Gun was about to say something, but he was interrupted by a tap on his gun shield. His turret spun round. Birch Gun met exasperated howling. The noise made his tracks roll back a metre.

UE 57 drove next to him. This ancient shouting force was Leopard 1, a tank from nobody's generation. He had a tie on.

"**YOUNG TANK, HAVE YOU NOT LEARNT FROM DETENTION?**" His tie flapped around. It looked like it was angry as well.

The floral tank behind them winced. It was also with another tank, a tank with beautiful sloped armour and a nice turret. It looked angry as well.

Birch Gun was scared of everything else, but he decided that he wasn't going to fall to this behemoth futuristic vehicle. "Well, he shot me and so I decided to re—"

"**DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?**" Leopard 1's turret was jiggling around like a bowl of infuriated jelly. With explosions.

UE 57 knew this main battle tank too well. She slowly drove back, bumping into the floral thing. "Um, Ram II, can you move?" Her wheels spun, but to no effect. Ram II was frozen.

A lot of tanks gathered around, watching the conflict. Some of them were sniggering.

Leopard 1's turret moved. "Get to your classes, everyone. I have some talking to do."

Birch Gun flinched; the holes in his gun shield were making sharp pain. It didn't help that his armour was terrible. 'Worst in the…' Birch Gun remembered part of a quote that a light tank said to him before pelting his side with 37mm shells.

The tanks slowly rolled into the academy. The other tank pushed Ram II into the school. UE 57 was drawn back. Her engine was so hot it could've caused a fiery armageddon.

There was smooth silence. Leopard 1 heard a loud engine coming towards his flank. He turned to meet a green tank.

"Morning, guv."

"Hello, KV-1. How is the work on the tank?"

Birch Gun saw a little hat with a red cross on it. KV-1's turret swung, the little hat swaying about.

"Not going well, sir. The arty did significant damage to 'im. He's a M2 Medium, sir."

Leopard 1 sighed. "Well, I saw that. Perhaps you should check the culprit…"

Birch Gun gulped. His tracks moved back and he rammed into UE 57. She was hiding behind him.

KV-1 found Birch Gun and met him. "So… you're the artillery, I suspect."

"U-um, yes…" Birch Gun cried in pain again. "I-I had to shoot him, he was attacking me with his machine guns…"

KV-1 widened his focus on the gun shield. "Wow… these went straight through. Are you okay?"

Birch Gun was silent. UE 57 was still pressed against his back.

"We'd better get you in for repairs." KV-1 replied. He drove off, Birch Gun following him.

Leopard 1 snarled. He wanted to have Birch Gun in detention again.

UE 57 suddenly realised that she was in the open. She knew that if you were caught outside when you're supposed to be in classes, there would be detention. A lot of detention.

UE 57's tracks whirled as fast as her engine would let her. She hid behind the heavy tank slide, her engine wheezing.

She was hidden.

* * *

Birch Gun was led through the corridors. He saw many different rooms. Most of them were boring, but there was an interesting one: it had a metal plaque on it that said 'Arty…' The sign was old and rusted and the words were faded. He wanted to go in there.

In Birch Gun's mind, he was thinking about three things: pain, detention, and where UE 57 was. In his mind, UE 57 was probably in a dungeon. Also, the pain.

Birch Gun cried; how long had he been following this KV-1? How far away was this nurse room thing?

KV-1 finally stopped in front of a big white door, splattered with scratches. It looked like somebody had tried to get in.

KV-1 opened the door. They drove in.

Birch Gun was met with a dark shady room concealed by deathly curtains. Birch Gun instantly felt like a tier one in a tier ten fail platoon. He saw an outline pick up a sharp thing and dig it into a cloth.

He didn't see the KV-1. Birch Gun turned his turret. He did not see the seventy-five mm gun bash his turret into unconsciousness. His gun sunk.

* * *

Birch Gun woke up to flashing lights above him. He was encased in a cloth. It wrapped round him. Birch Gun felt dizzy, and his turret swayed around slowly. He had seen darkness around him until he saw blinding lights take his view range sight away.

His tracks spun vigorously, but he didn't move. He realised he was floating in the air. KV-1 appeared in the darkness.

"Are you okay?" he said. KV-1's little hat was positioned on his gun.

Birch Gun tried to say something, but he found out quickly that he couldn't. It felt like a bad dream. But tanks don't dream.

"Oh, sorry." KV-1 whimpered. "You'll be able to speak in about an hour."

Birch Gun was going a bit mad. He wasn't able to speak or move, and he was surrounded by both darkness and lights. His confusion amplified when he saw another KV-1 come out of nowhere.

"That's my colleague." KV-1 bumped the other one. He sighed.

"I'm Panzerkampfwagen KV-IA 753(r). I was captured by Germans and converted into a Fritz. Sorry for bonking you over the head, I thought you were a member of the Allies. Alas, we are not in true war."

Birch Gun blew up in response to what he just heard. He recovered, looking at the German steel.

"Just call me KV-IA." he replied.

Birch Gun nodded his gun. He still didn't know why he was here.

KV-1 saw Birch Gun's confusion. "Ah, yes…" He paused. "You're here because you had injuries. Yes?"

He nodded.

"The little holes in your gun shield… KV-IA didn't know how to convince you to get to the hospital so he bashed you on the turret. You went a little wobbly and you fell."

"Uh, yeah, sorry…" KV-IA murmured.

KV-1 continued. "They replaced your gun shield and gave you some new paint. You were looking a little rusty in places."

The lights turned on. Birch Gun turned his turret and saw M2 Medium asleep. He was repaired fully, save for the machine guns. Ram II and the other tank stood beside him. Birch Gun gulped.

Ram II was looking down at M2 Medium, shaking. The other tank looked grimly at Birch Gun (as far as a tank can look grimly).

KV-1 and KV-IA lifted him down onto the ground. His turret swung towards M2 Medium and then back. He drove off as fast as he can.

Now he'd have to find UE 57.


	6. The Bullies

He drove.

Birch Gun had been searching through these damned corridors for ages. He didn't stop; he didn't even know where he was. How big is this school? he thought.

He stopped in a random hall. Lockers were scattered along the walls. It seemed that a battle had gone on here.

Birch Gun's tracks rose over a maroon locker. Its paint was kissed by scratches and flaking paint. He examined the locker. He could just make out a name… Churchill… Gun Carrier?

"I wonder what that is…" Birch Gun sighed.

His focus had quickly switched from the 'Gun Carrier' to the plaque in front of him. He hadn't noticed it before. Birch Gun drove forward, inspecting the brass square nailed onto the door.

On the plaque were a few words sunk into the brass hanging above him.

He tried to read it, but the plaque was drenched in irrelevant things that made the words out to be 'BULLIES' HANGOUT'. Birch Gun sniffed and considered the qualities of life and his winrate.

He noticed the door a second later. He was just about to embark on this potentially dangerous adventure when he heard rumbling behind him. Birch Gun swung his turret round to see a rusty heap. On closer inspection it was a boxy monster with a terribly huge gun swinging from side to side. Birch Gun had seen this tank before, but not with this unsightly box on top of it. He had seen it with a sleek turret with a lovely British gun.

The behemoth was splattered with rust and scratches. Its gun trembled as its dirty, mud-cursed tracks shook across the shiny floor. That was when Birch Gun noticed the glinting floor. He didn't understand how it wasn't ruined by the constant barrage of tanks sailing through the halls.

Birch Gun woke up from his daydream to see the anti-hunk a metre away from him. It had a distinctive splatter of red paint on the left side of its superstructure. The paint was hugged by foul dust.

"H-hi…" Birch Gun murmured. He was not sure of this tank; it looked like Tankenstein to him. He wished he had a friend to help him in this situation.

Birch Gun was surprised when the thing didn't reply. Its engine growled in frustration.

"Hello?" As the tank spoke, its hull jiggled about. Birch Gun found this jiggling a bit haunting.

"Hello?" Birch Gun replied. "Why 'Hello?'"

There was no reply. Birch Gun tensed. "I-is this a trap?"

He was just about to turn and leave when he heard dripping.

Birch Gun swerved around to see black liquid dancing on the floor. He identified the liquid as oil. He looked up and saw the tank crying oil.

"U-um, are you okay?" Birch Gun was quite worried about the mental status of this tank.

"Y-yesss… I-It's just that n-nobody's ever s-spoken to me without i-insulting me…" The tank cried.

Awkwardness filled the hall with silence. Birch Gun made no effort to say anything as the tank was crying oil.

"M-my name is Churchill Gun C-carrier…" He paused. "I'm a British hulk with flat armour all around and a devastating gun… if it wasn't coated in r-rust…"

Birch Gun was silent while this big tank destroyer bawled. He really didn't know what to say or do in response to this endless whining.

"Well, uh… um…" Birch Gun paused to think of constructive things to say. "I have bad armour, I'm slow and I have a devastating gun… I think… not…" Birch Gun decided not to let Churchill Gun Carrier hear the last part.

He stopped bawling. "Oh… well, that's nice. Good to know there's somebody equally as bad as me."

"What?" Birch Gun felt offended.

"O-oh, err, nothing."

Birch Gun had almost forgotten about the 'bullies' hangout.'

He pointed over to the door. "What's that?"

Churchill Gun Carrier suddenly tensed and he drove back. "No no no no, don't go in there."

"Why not?"

"The bullies are probably in there right now. I haven't seen them come out of there today."

Birch Gun turned his turret to see the hangout. "Who?"

"Evil, terrible creatures. ARL 44, KV-2 and Hellcat. You don't want to mess with them!"

Birch Gun recognised the names. "I've met ARL 44. I destroyed that big terror. Who did he think he was, Napoleon?"

Birch Gun, ignoring every warning thrown at him by Churchill Gun Carrier, decided to go Rambo. He loaded one of his trusty shells and spat it out at the door, eating the door and the wall away. His wheels moved and he rolled in, triumphant.

Birch Gun was met with darkness. He could hear inaudible speech. Suddenly, he was flashed with light. He rolled back into a wall, unable to see anything.

"Oh, who is this, friends?" Birch Gun heard a heavy Russian accent constricted by cruelty.

Birch Gun was able to see again. He instantly saw a tall tank with a gun reminiscent of a battleship, at least to Birch Gun. He also saw an open topped tank with a cruel looking gun mantlet. Finally, he saw ARL 44, the French beast with a bad attitude.

Birch Gun spun round to leave but he felt a shell split his track. His wheels moved to no avail.

"нет!" the Russian tank shouted. "You are not leaving!"

Birch Gun instantly realised his mistake. He was a lone tier four artillery detracked by a 90 millimetre shell. He was also surrounded by an American tank destroyer and two very mean heavy tanks.

"OK baddie, let's talk." The Hellcat sneered. "We might just let you go if your stats are high enough."

Birch Gun shivered at the thought of stats.

"As we can see, this Birch Gun's stats are very low."

ARL 44 spoke. "Hellcat's stats are very high. He is purple. What are you, red?"

The three bullies laughed. Birch Gun was confused.

"We have WN7, WN8 and winrate." ARL 44 continued. "You have none."

Hellcat chuckled. "My WN7 is 9999, my WN8 is 9999, and my winrate is 100%. I'm a true winner."

Birch Gun remembered: he had a stat checker app on his iPad. He snuck his iPad out whilst the bullies were insulting his mediocre stats. He checked the Hellcat.

"WN7 124… WN8 93… Winrate 43.29%..." Birch Gun snickered.

"WHAT!" Hellcat was sent into a rage. He spun his turret round (albeit, very slowly) and whacked Birch Gun in his shield.

"Scum! That's what all of you are! You cheat and use stat checking in the games! You prioritize us good tanks!" Hellcat burst out random blubber. "Just to let you know, I'M A REROLL!"

Birch Gun didn't like getting hit in the shield. He remembered the M2 Medium. He rolled back, defenceless.

The other bullies drove back in awkwardness. They didn't like Hellcat's raging.

"You call us goodies window lickers even though we carry your team and get two hundred Top Guns in one match! Nobody likes you! ARGH!"

Hellcat ended it all with a shot. Birch Gun fell. The other bullies took the emergency exit.

* * *

Birch Gun groaned. He felt a large pain in the left side of his front. He was back the right way up but he was still without a working track on the left. He couldn't see anything.

"It's the apocalypse… Hellcat has gone absolutely mad…"

"I know… who triggered him?"

"The a-artillery… The artillery!"

"I knew we were doomed. Hellcat hates arty… Especially ones who insult his stats…"

New voices were heard from every direction. He couldn't do anything; he couldn't even speak.

"Where is the artillery?"

Suddenly, Birch Gun felt himself breathing.

"**H-HEEEEEEEEEELPPPPP!" **he instantly screamed.

He heard a shot, and more destruction. He heard crashing and screams everywhere.

He could suddenly see. He was concealed behind a wall. Churchill Gun Carrier was hiding with him.

"Y-you're a-awake…" Churchill Gun Carrier whispered. "It's hell out there, you know…"

Birch Gun had so many questions that it burst his tank brain. He let Churchill Gun Carrier continue.

"O-oh my gosh, he went mad… I was hidden in another room, but I saw Hellcat come out of the room. I-I found you and dragged you here…"

They heard a blast. A green tank skidded in front of them. It was missing its rear wheel and its engine was blazing. "AaAAhh, HELP!"

"W-what, was this all because of m-me?"

The green tank went past. It stopped a few moments later.

Churchill Gun Carrier didn't reply. He was too fixated on Hellcat being clamped. His gun was covered with cement and he was being dragged along the floor.

"Well, that e-ended quickly." Birch Gun sighed. "I'm glad that's over."

"Doesn't that 90 millimetre shell in your hull hurt?"

"No, only if I move. I guess I should get this fixed up—" Birch Gun stopped when he saw a wave of tanks stream past the duo. Birch Gun heard the scream of the green tank.

"They're going to the nurses' room." Churchill Gun Carrier began. "You probably should go, too."

Birch Gun didn't reply.

"Actually, why haven't I had any lessons yet? I've just been thrown into this school with no guidance."

Churchill Gun Carrier thought. "Um, maybe you're in the same lesson as me."

"I need medical attention. It's starting to hurt…"

"O-oh yeah. Um, I'll get something for you…"

Churchill Gun Carrier drove off. Birch Gun was left alone, except for the green tank's rear wheel on its side.

There was silence.


End file.
